Bianca was beautiful. There was no doubt about that.
Still, Grayson was pretty sure there were rules in place that looked down on kidnappers kissing the people they had kidnapped. And judging from Bianca's state, Grayson was uncomfortably certain she wanted to do a lot more than just kiss.
"You're not in your right state of mind," he muttered.
"Neither are you. You're a Briare, remember?"
That was a stupid excuse. Yet his body seemed to completely disagree. Which was why, when Bianca stood on her toes for another kiss, he returned it instantly. This means nothing, Grayson reminded himself as his hands desperately tried to feel every inch of her exposed skin. She's a pretty girl. That's all there is to it.
But once she'd tugged her shirt down to her shoulders, once he'd begun assaulting her neck with an armada of kisses, he wasn't capable of reminding himself of anything anymore. Bianca Blackburn was truly, undeniably attractive- Only in a physical sense, of course. And once she'd backed them towards the table in the corner, once she'd gotten on top of it and had wrapped her legs around his hips, he wasn't sure how he'd managed to last this long without having kissed her before.
Mixing emotions with business was a dangerous move. Grayson knew this. Then again, he'd killed his alpha in a fit of pent up rage, and things had worked out pretty well for him, hadn't they?
Bianca took her shirt off, and Grayson was pushing her down so he had a clear route to her collarbone. From there, he trailed his kisses downwards, brushing his lips past her chest, over her breasts... Her hips buckled, she was gasping, and he was, too. His hands felt the curves of her waist and moved to her ass-
She grabbed his hair and forced him to look her in the eyes. "How did you do it?" she whispered. "How did you convince Henry to help you?"
Grayson stared at her for a long moment, completely having forgotten who he was and what situation the two of them were in. Then, something in his mind clicked into place, and he took her words as a cue to mean this unbelievably strange moment between them was over.
Clearing his throat, he pulled himself away from her. "As you well know, the Oakes have a history of betraying the Blackburns," he replied. "I just knew how to exploit this particular weakness."
"What do you mean? What history?"
"You really don't know?" Grayson frowned. "It was about two decades ago. Scott Oake was your father's right hand man, and he stabbed Lorenzo in the back about twenty times over."
Bianca blinked a couple of times. "Scott Oake? Henry's uncle?"
"Lorenzo made Scott's death last two whole days. The Oakes lost all respect in your pack after that, and because Lorenzo wasn't smart enough to wipe Scott's entire family completely off the face of the earth, all it took was a bit of threats and bribes on my part to have your friend do what I needed him to do."
"What threats? What bribes?" Bianca demanded.
"You ask an awful lot of questions for someone who's supposed to be a hostage."
"Answer me."
Grayson rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? They're all going to be dead by sunup anyway."
"What?" she shouted.
"Relax, Blackburn. If it hadn't been me who had sent out the kill order, it would've been your father. And he would've made it hurt a lot worse."
"Call it off."
Something in Bianca's gaze had changed. All the craziness had apparently left her, because she was acting dead serious now.
"Excuse me?" Grayson laughed.
"Call it off," Bianca repeated. "I'm not going to stand by and let you kill my best friend-"
"You're not going to let me?" he snarled. "I murdered my father in cold blood for a bit of power. I've spent my entire life forming unbreakable plans to achieve my greatest ambitions. And do you know what you've done?"
His hand, which had been on her bare shoulder before, snaked its way up to the base of her throat. "You've done nothing. You've accomplished nothing. You've spent your entire life being a little rich girl, eating off the golden platters that others serve you. So what the hell," he tightened his grip on her neck, "Makes you think you have the right to tell me what I can and can't do?"
Her bottom lip trembled, but Grayson sensed it was due to her being angry, not due to her being frightened.
"When I get out of here, and I will get out of here," Bianca breathed, "The first thing I'm going to do is go look for Henry. And if he's not in perfect condition, I will personally hunt you down and make you pay with your sanity."
Grayson laughed. "Henry Oake as good as handed you over to me. Why should you care if he lives or dies?"
"You didn't give him a choice."
"I gave him plenty."
Bianca glowered at him for five whole seconds, then lunged at him. Unfortunately for her, their current position made it unreasonably easy for Grayson to knock her back down. "You know, I think this whole ordeal may end up being good for you," he told her, pinning her flailing wrists down to her sides. "Not everyone cares about you. Learn to accept that."
He marched straight out of the wine cellar before Bianca could come at him with another Help me forget it all comment. Grayson needed to get his head back in the game.
"Reyes? Where are you?" Grayson spoke into his phone, sliding the reinforced steel lock on the door into place.
"There's been a minor setback, boss," Reyes replied. "The Oakes are gone."
Grayson froze. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"
"They're not in Crescent Cliffs anymore. They didn't bother to pack anything, they just took their cars and left."
"Find them," Grayson gritted out. Then he glanced back at the door. "On second thought, come back here. Have someone else locate the Oakes. I want you here to make sure Blackburn doesn't pull another escape."
And with that, Grayson made his way up the stairs and into his room on the third floor. Unlike the Hawkins Manor, this house wasn't one Grayson had 'borrowed' for his own use. The Redwood House had been in his family's possession for decades, and it was where Grayson had ended up in his childhood years. He hadn't been exaggerating to Bianca when he'd told her his father had never given a damn about him. A few of Vincent's friends had taken pity on Grayson and had brought him here when he'd been six. He'd been cared for by the hired help here for an entire month before his father had finally thought to wonder where his only son had disappeared off to.
Vincent had operated from a penthouse apartment in the city a few miles west of the Redwood House, but once Grayson had taken over, he'd moved everything here. The last thing he'd wanted was to start living in the very place he'd never been welcome in as a child.
Grayson sat at his desk, contemplating whether or not to actually go through with this. He'd kept going over the entire plan in his mind for weeks, but now that the moment to put it into motion was here, he was having difficulty picking up the phone.
"Hello?"
He forgot how to speak for a split second, but when he started talking, his tone was smooth and cool. "Nice to meet you, Mr Blackburn," he answered.
"Who is this?"
"I think you'll be able to figure that out for yourself once I tell you this: I have your daughter."
The call came to an abrupt end.
Well. That was unexpected.
Not exactly the response Grayson had been hoping for, but a chance to make his demands would come soon enough, he was sure of it. He dropped the burner phone onto the ground, then crushed it with the heel of his shoe.